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Invasion of...
Hello, my lousy inferior. My name's Infernopaw, and we're the next generation. We will conquer the world through our pure awesomeness and skill. (Actually, you know what? Forget I said that. It's top-secret apprentice business, though now I guess it isn't.) Twelve moons ago, in the "year 3000", three very insignificant things happened. One, Harry Potter came to life, along with every character in the series we cats had thought was a fairy tale (yes, I can read English. Us warriors have developed our cleverness and learned how to. . .well, you'll find out later, I'm sure. Two, dogs and cats signed a peace treaty, and we aren't enemies anymore. Yes, one of the skills we've learned is writing. My friend Psychicpaw is a natural, but I'm still practicing. Three, we don't know how, but StarClan somehow got pitched out of the stars (they won't tell us how; I think they're embarrassed). Now they live slightly outside of Clan territory. I'm not used to them yet. It's still kind of creepy to see transparent ghosts walking around chasing mutant rabbits. --------- "I will catch some prey. I will bring them to you. Then I will whack you across the face with the prey." Hmmm, frustration doesn't feel so nice. "Psychicpaw! How dare you program the robot wrong? Again?" I hissed across the clearing. "It's still saying I will whack you across the face with the prey." Psychicpaw jumps. All right, I have to admit, for all her intelligence, she's about as easily startled as a mouse. She might still be helpful in our invasion of the universe, though. "Hey!" she protests, looking indignant. "I'm not supposed to be your engineer, Infernopaw. Fix it yourself, or are you too dumb?" And yes, that's what I expected from a snobby, know-it-all she-cat like her. Honestly, I don't know how anyone can stand her. But she can be nice. . . Rarely. "But you're the only one who knows how to!" I complain. She snorts and pads over, rolling her eyes. I bet she's thinking, Infernopaw is a great lazy prat. Infernopaw needs me to do everything. He can't even write the capital letter A right. It looks like an upside-down V. Standing in front of me is a metal robot-warrior with flashing lights for eyes. It is not easy to ignore (duh). My Clanmates had asked me a trillion times what I was doing. "My new project," I had said a trillion times, in response to their trillion questions. (Actually, the real answer is that I need it to conquer the world.) "What do you need fixed, then?" Psychicpaw asked. "Well, a lot of things." If Psychicpaw couldn't see I need the robot ''fixed, I'd just fool around a bit. I mean, aren't we cats kind of immortal now? StarClan lives on Clan territory. They operate like a real Clan, just a one made of super-smart ghost cats. I ramble off, "First, I need ''you ''fixed, because your jumpiness isn't helping my life. Then I need my life fixed because of your jumpiness. Third - " Psychicpaw shoves me away and begins fixing the robot herself. Now I really need my life fixed, because my head is planted in the dirt, my tail is sticking in the air. There are more rebel apprentices than warriors, so no one pays attention to me. --------- Meanwhile, Harry Potter and his friends were exploring RiverClan territory. A RiverClan apprentice patrol found them lurking around. Fluorescentpaw demands, "What are you doing in my territory? Get out!" Harry Potter and his friends draw their wands. --------- Psychicpaw finishes fixing the cat-robot in two short minutes, while I was stuck with my face in the dirt. Then she thrusts the robot at me, knocking me over and back onto my paws. I don't like the fact that I had to be rescued by Psychicpaw. "There. See if it works now," she grumbled as it whirred and made weird spitting noises. Then she turned her back on me and marched away. ''She-cats. Quelling my annoyance, I mew to the cat-robot, "Fetch me some prey." The robot nodded, grabbed a plump mouse, and returned to me. I cheer inwardly as I watch it shuffle back to me, some warriors glaring at it suspiciously. In fact, I feel quite satisfied until the cat-robot lifts a forepaw and whacks me across the face with the fat gray mouse. "OW!" I shriek when the cat-robot retreats, still whirring and spitting weirdly. "PSYCHICPAW! HOW DARE YOU?" From the sly, amused look on her face, I guessed that she had managed to find a loophole in my instructions. Again. I sigh. --------- "They're threatening us with a bunch of sticks," Radiantpaw mutters. None of the apprentices look very impressed with Harry and his friends' wands. In fact, Fluorescentpaw asks if it was a lame joke. Harry Potter and his two friends raise their wands without answering. "Oh, I see." Luminouspaw laughs. "Anyway. . .who here has read the Harry Potter series?" "There's a series about me?" Harry Potter exclaims, then faints in shock and surprise. His friends crowd around him, looking equally shocked and surprised, but none of them had fainted. "Er. . .that was easy," Fluorescentpaw mutters, but before she can move again, Hermione and Ron direct their wands at her. There is a flash of light and a bang, and Fluorescentpaw goes flying through the air. She lands in a clump of moss, five feet from where she'd been standing moments before. Enraged, the apprentices fly at Hermione and Ron. --------- Tonight, Psychicpaw brings me the largest pigeon I'd ever seen and invites me to share. I'm suspicious, but I politely accept the pigeon. This is a mistake, I soon discover. I take a large mouthful while watching Psychicpaw with the corner of my eye. She doesn't touch the pigeon until I swallow my bite. Then she digs in as well, strangely enthusiastic. "Mmmm," she mumbled as she spits some feathers out. "It's delicious. I wonder where it was caught. . ." I'm beginning to feel sleepy. My eyes are sliding closed, and my jaws gape in a wide yawn. Psychicpaw narrows her eyes at me, her satisfaction melting like snow beneath the sun. Our less-than-perfect robot approaches, its metallic eyes flashing strangely. "Oh no," Psychicpaw murmurs. I instantly know she has fooled me once more. I can barely keep myself from sliding into sleep. The robot-warrior shuffles over, whirring and creaking, and inspects the pigeon with a rigid paw. Then it turns, stares at me and says in an expressionless voice, "You have swallowed two poppy seeds." Psychicpaw's face is stark-white, but she recovers herself quickly. "Sorry, Infernopaw, but this is for your own good." Before I fall asleep with my head resting in my half-eaten prey, she adds, "And mine. Duh." Category:Fanfiction Category:In progress Category:One-Shot